


Dungeon Crawl

by TerrifiedAristocrat



Category: AFK Arena (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Blood Drinking, Improper Use of Bats, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Restraints, Safeword Use, Teasing, Vampire Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 22:54:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20554025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerrifiedAristocrat/pseuds/TerrifiedAristocrat
Summary: A simple mission to clean out Vedan's basement becomes more involved than Fawkes anticipated.





	Dungeon Crawl

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate Title: Who Wouldn't Fuck Van Hellsing I Mean Have You Seen That Ass

Vedan’s basement was no place for a lightbringer. Fawkes knew this, felt it in his bones as he carefully padded along the uneven cobbled flooring, his left hand on his crossbow and his right hand shimmering softly. There was enough light from his hand to see by, but what Fawkes saw was twisting shadows and menacing shapes. He rubbed his thumb across the wood of his crossbow to center himself, breathing in cool and damp air slowly. 

Bounties didn’t stay in this town too often, and neither did bounty hunters. Mirael and Rayne were off in the town over doing some undercover work that involved them sneaking into a dance hall and exposing some kind of trafficking ring- that job sounded a lot more fun than this one. Apparently Vedan’s twins were away on some... thing they did, Fawkes didn’t get any specifics, leaving Vedan alone in his creepy mansion with a basement full of unruly undead that somehow slipped his control. The vampire was offering a very decent reward, and at the end of the day, money makes the world go around. 

Movement drew Fawkes’ gaze. He spotted a misshapen graveborn with two heads barely kept on its shoulders, lunging towards him. Fawkes shot both heads with his crossbow and glanced around in time to notice a whole swarm of them, rot filling his nostrils and rasping groans crawling own his ear canals. He grit his teeth, and set to work. 

The hunting of inhuman creatures was something Fawkes excelled in. It wasn’t something he was born into, but a mantel he took upon himself. Even in low lighting, Fawkes’ aim was true, unflinching as fluids spattered back onto his face. He used the coffin on his back to smack a larger graveborn lumbering behind him without thinking, each move as easy to him as breathing. 

Out of the corner of Fawke’s eye he spotted Vedan, a blur of black and green and silver darting around his own monsters, eyes bright and mouth stretched into an inhuman smile. Vedan caught him looking and the smile stayed until Fawkes looked away a second too late- one of Vedan’s experiments had vicious claws that raked across Fawkes’ chest and absolutely destroyed his coat. Fawkes hissed in pain and shot the thing in the head with great prejudice. 

Rude-ass graveborns.

Half-rotted monsters kept swarming, seeming to ooze out of the bricks of the manor at a faster pace than before- probably attracted to the blood steadily soaking Fawkes’ coat. He clenched his jaw and kept shooting until he ran out of bolts, clenching his cursed hand and using it to tear apart the monsters that were left. Time slipped past Fawkes, until nothing but silence remained.

He glanced around the rest of the room, his muscles tense and his pulse pounding. Nothing moved in the darkness, no lumbering beasts with Fawke’s flesh on their minds. Fawkes moved slowly into the other room,exhaustion starting to ooze into the back of his mind.

The next room was better lit, with an examination table sitting in the middle of it and blue-white lights installed over it. Fawkes staggered over to it and leaned against it, breathing slowly for a few moments.His eyes stayed busy, staring at shadows for any kind of movement. When nothing jumped out to eat Fawkes, he hopped on top of the table and took off his hat with a sigh. Time to assess the damage.

The cuts across his chest were the worst- the strap holding Fawkes’ coffin to his back was mangled and his favorite jacket was shredded in the front. Fawkes took off his coffin and undid his belt, leaning them up against a nearby wall and setting his crossbow down. There was no point in keeping it for the time being as he was out of ammo. If any hostile Graveborn came across him he’d have to do them in the old fashioned way with a blessed dagger and his fists. Fawkes didn’t have any first aid kit but he had some strong liquor he could rinse his wounds out with which was better than nothing. Fawkes hopped back on the examination table with a bottle of liquor in one hand and his ruined jacket in the other to blot at the blood oozing from his chest. 

Something moved in Fawkes’ periphery and he froze, his chest hammering. A sleek black bat fluttered out of the darkness and landed on Fawkes’ thigh, blinking up at him with glowing green eyes. Fawkes stared at it for a few minutes, trying to calm his pulse. 

“The hell?” he muttered, reaching out to the bat. It stayed still, letting Fawkes touch its back lightly with his non-cursed hand. “Vedan?” 

Another bat landed on Fawkes’ shoulder, and a third on his cursed hand. 

“Vedan if that is you, be careful. My hand is cursed,” Fawkes muttered, noticing an actual cloud of jet black bats all with the same glowing green eyes, fluttering around him. One fluttered up to Fawkes’ chest and landed, digging tiny but sharp claws into Fawkes’ skin and lapping at his bloody cut. Fawkes snorted, shaking his head. “Graveborn have a one track mind,” he muttered, running his free hand through his hair. It wasn’t a problem, he supposed, unless Vedan got too thirsty. Watching the bats crawling around his skin made his chest feel something weird- as much as he could imagine himself bashing Vedan’s smirking mug in, he’d have a hard time hurting him in bat form. 

The bat crawling on Fawkes’ shoulder started nibbling on the skin along his collarbone. Another one crawled up his stomach, scratching his skin. That was probably accidental, so Fawkes ignored it, ignored how hot his skin felt, ignored how he seemed to be riding a fine line between exhaustion and excitement. When a bat bit into Fawkes’ earlobe his eyes shot open and his spine stiffened. His breath caught in his throat as another one nibbled along Fawkes’ inner wrist. If these were just average bats he’d shake them off and think it an odd coincidence, but knowing that they were Vedan doing this was... well. It was hot, there was no way around that. Fawkes swallowed harshly, trying to bring in rational thoughts under the low haze of almost arousal he felt. 

“Vedan.” he rumbled, tipping his head back and his eyes shut for just a moment. “What do you want?”

The ticklish feeling of bats spread around Fawkes’ limbs coalesced into a cool weight in his lap, delicate fingers brushing along his jawline. The sensation was muffled by Fawkes’ mask, trapping too much heat, making it hard to breathe. As if sensing what Fawkes was thinking, Vedan slipped a finger under the mask and pulled it down, tracing an icy path across the corner of Fawkes’ lips, down his chin, along his carotid artery.

“Why Fawkes, I thought that was rather obvious,” Vedan crooned softly. The way in which Vedan purred out Fawkes’ name made him shiver. He forced his eyes open, staring at Vedan’s own glowing eyes to get a read on what the vampire wanted exactly- blood? Sex? “Both,” Vedan chimed in, his lips quirking up into a devilish smile.

“Stay outta my head,” Fawkes groused.

“You weren’t saying anything, I had to make sure you still had something functioning up there,” Vedan sighed, running an icy finger up one of Fawkes’ cuts, collecting blood and then sucking it off of his finger slowly. Fawkes’ eyes fixated on that, his face heating up at the deliberate way in which Vedan pulled his finger from his mouth, clean of blood. Vedan looked up at him lazily, his eyes almost issuing a challenge. 

Fawkes grabbed Vedan by his cravat and yanked him up, kissing him harshly. He could feel Vedan inhale rapidly, his eyes widening in shock but his lips curling into a smile as he kissed back equally as harshly. He teased Fawkes’ lower lip with his fangs and Fawkes groaned softly, opening his mouth to let Vedan in. Everything about Vedan- his lips, his tongue, his hands around Fawkes’ bare waist- was slightly cooler than it should be, and that sensation sent electricity across Fawkes’ skin. He shuddered as Vedan trailed those icy hands up Fawkes’ back. The fabric of Vedan’s jacket and shirt rubbed against Fawkes’ chest, so Fawkes tugged at Vedan’s cravat insistently. Vedan seemed to ignore him, continuing to kiss Fawkes with a head-spinning intensity. A fang nipped Fawkes’ lower lip and split it open, flooding Fawkes’ mouth with bitter copper but treating Fawkes to a pleasant moan from Vedan. The vampire had been very careful not to touch Fawkes with anything below the waistline up to this point, but he pressed a cool thigh in between Fawkes’ legs and sucked on Fawkes’ lip harshly, eliciting a low moan from Fawkes in response. Fawkes rolled his hips against Vedan’s thigh, breaking the kiss to suck in a lungful of air.

“Take this off,” Vedan whispered in Fawkes’ ear, tugging at Fawkes’ mask, pooled at his collarbones.

“Take this off,” Fawkes repeated to Vedan, tugging at Vedan’s lapel. 

“Fair,” Vedan snorted softly, pulling away. Fawkes pulled his mask off with some effort, shaking his hair to right it. He also peeled off his gloves and sat upright, doing his best to seem cool and uninterested even with the throbbing erection between his legs- his pants were tight, too tight, and hid very little. 

Vedan sat across from Fawkes on the examination table, fine fingers working to undo his shirt one stupidly expensive button at a time. His cravat was loosened and hanging off of his neck, and Fawkes leaned into pull it all the way off. He ignored the huff of disapproval Vedan gave, instead stroking the side of Vedan’s neck with his flesh hand, enjoying how Vedan seemed to subtly lean into his touch. Emboldened, Fawkes crawled closer to Vedan and peppered soft kisses along Vedan’s neck and jaw, reveling in how he could make the previously unflappable count squirm.

“You’re being distracting,” Vedan grumbled.

“You’re taking too long,” Fawkes retorted, nipping Vedan’s ear lightly. Vedan shivered and sighed, pulling his shirt off and letting it pool around his waist. Fawkes wasted no time wrapping his legs around that same waist and resuming his kissing of Vedan, harsh and hungry. 

“You’re in a hurry,” Vedan commented between kisses.

“I have things to do,” Fawkes explained, biting at Vedan’s lip to mimic Vedan’s earlier action.

“Like what?” Vedan demanded.

“You,” Fawkes shrugged, rolling his hips so Vedan could feel just how interested Fawkes was in precisely that. Vedan hummed and in a rather sudden movement pinned Fawkes to his examination table fast enough to knock the breath out of Fawkes’ lungs.

“I’m thinking the other way around,” he rasped into Fawkes ear delicately, close enough that Fawkes could feel the brush of fang against his earlobe. Fawkes shuddered, definitely turned on by being pinned down so suddenly. Vedan’s erection pressing into Fawkes’ thigh helped too.

“That’s fine,” he gasped out. “Just hurry it up,” 

“It’s important to enjoy the finer things in life,” Vedan chided, slowly running his tongue up the side of Fawkes’ neck before kissing and nipping under Fawkes’ jaw. “There’s no reason to rush,” Fawkes rolled his hips against Vedan pointedly, groaning. “Unless you intend on humping my leg like a dog?”

“At the pace you’re going, the idea has its merits,” Fawkes drawled. Vedan laughed, pulling away and snatching up Fawkes’ cursed hand. Fawkes frowned as Vedan inspected it, and then pulled it into a shackle and clasped it shut.

“Safeword?” Vedan asked mildly.

“Taxidermy,” Fawkes responded promptly. Vedan raised an eyebrow. “Taxidermied animals are the farthest thing from sexy I can think of,” a

“Fascinating,” Vedan replied, not agreeing or disagreeing with Fawkes as he secured his other hand. “Comfortable?”

Fawkes tested the bonds, pleasantly surprised by the amount of care Vedan was putting into this. Weirdly enough, that was as much of a turn-on as being pinned and chained.

“It’s good,” he confirmed.

“Excellent,” Vedan moved off of the table and trailed a hand along Fawkes’ chest, tracing over the claw marks that bled sluggishly, mostly congealed. Some red smeared down Fawkes’ stomach though tacky and cool. Fawkes’ breath hitched as Vedan teasingly traced his elegant hands along the waistband of his pants, toying with their button as if he was deciding whether or not to undo it. Fawkes swallowed harshly, tempted to beg, but not that far gone. He kept himself as still as he could and did his best not to sigh as Vedan began undoing his pants. “Patience yields reward,” he purred out as he pulled off Fawkes’ pants, exposing him fully to the chilly air. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Fawkes did not answer, his eyes fixed on Vedan’s form as he stepped away from the table. With the light directly over Fawkes’ head he could only see a limited circle around the table he was on, the rest of the room turning into hungry darkness. Vedan returned with something in his hand, a frown on his face.

“I asked you a question,” he remarked sharply.

“I don’t,” Fawkes shook his head, realizing he had to answer. “I don’t agree,”

Vedan grinned widely and showed Fawkes the bright green ribbon tucked in his palm.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he commented, tying the ribbon around the base of Fawkes’ cock. Fawkes groaned. “You can come when I say you can,” Vedan met Fawkes’ eyes with serious look. Fawkes nodded silently, and Vedan nodded back before tracing his hands along Fawkes’ thighs, gently nudging them apart. Fawkes did not resist, letting Vedan position him how he liked. Vedan patted Fawkes’ left knee lightly as a reward, kissing the skin on the medial side of Fawkes’ knee softly. Vedan trailed increasingly hotter kisses down Fawkes’ inner thigh, introducing more and more fang the closer he got to Fawkes’ groin. Fawkes barely bit back a whimper, feeling Vedan shiver against his thigh but knowing better than to smirk at his victory. Vedan’s fangs sank into Fawkes’ inner thigh, very close to the junction with his hips and sending exquisite pain rushing to Fawkes’ spine. He cried out as Vedan drank slowly, running a knuckle along Fawkes’ perineum. The stimulation made Fawkes gasp and squirm, and Vedan kissed the wound he made, pressing further into Fawkes. As quickly as it began, the stimulation stopped. Fawkes didn’t realize the needy whine that was building in his chest until it was halfway past his lips, his breath coming in short bursts. It was hard to think about much else but his aching cock and how he wanted to touch, to be touched, to be pulled apart. 

In the back of his head, he knew Vedan would. Eventually. Fawkes huffed and tipped his head back, trying to get himself to relax. He couldn’t see much given the bright bright light over his head, so when Vedan returned and touched his knee again, Fawkes jumped. 

“I wonder if I’ve teased you enough?” Vedan’s voice felt like velvet rubbing against Fawkes’ skin, rasping in some areas but smooth and delicious in others. Fawkes groaned in response. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,”

“Please,” Fawkes grit out.

“Please what?” Vedan asked. 

“Please fuck me,” Fawkes clarified.

“Ah, that’s better,” Fawkes felt Vedan’s lips brush the bite wound he’d made earlier, a twinge of pain before cool and slick fingers pressed against Fawkes’ entrance. He gasped, tensing. “Easy now. Relax,” Vedan’s voice washed over Fawkes’ skin and he closed his eyes, only slightly concerned at how easily his body obeyed Vedan’s command. “Good, good,” Vedan murmured, pressing his finger inside. The intrusion was cold, but not unwelcome. Fawkes spread his legs and Vedan increased his pace- Fawkes didn’t know if the two were related and he didn’t care. 

Before long he began rolling his hips to meet Vedan’s fingers, up to two now pumping into him at a steady pace. Whimpers spilled from Fawkes’ lips, half-formed pleas for more that seemed to fall on deaf ears. Vedan fingered Fawkes with the slow casual nature of someone who had eternity stretched out before him, uncaring of the passage of time. Each twitch of Vedan’s fingertips was intoxicating torture to Fawkes, although when Vedan removed them Fawkes gasped. He rolled his head back for a moment and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down- every nerve was stretched taut under his skin, his body resting between the fine line of tense anticipation and loose relaxation. 

The cool touch of Vedan climbing on top of Fawkes and entering him made his eyes snap open and his back arch, the cool sensation melting into something hot and uncontrollable as Fawkes tried to grind down on Vedan. Vedan seemed to relent, picking up his pace. Fawkes met Vedan’s eyes, lidded, glowing, and hungry. For a moment, he wondered if Vedan was going to kill him like this, if he would rip Fawke’s throat out and drain him. Fawkes swallowed harshly at the thought, tipping his head to the side a little in a paradoxical urge to find out, an invitation, a dare. Vedan struck, sinking his fangs into the side of Fawkes’ neck and rumbling a low moan into Fawkes’ skin, his thrusts growing more erratic. Vedan’s fangs slid in and out of Fawkes’ neck in time with each thrust, new waves of pain dancing with the hot pleasure Fawkes felt building inside him. When Vedan came he bit again, harsher and enough to draw a strangled moan out of Fawkes. 

“Would you like to come?” he murmured lazily against Fawkes’ skin, lapping at the edges of the bite delicately after asking.

‘Yes,” Fawkes hissed out, “please...”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Vedan purred, reaching down and after some effort, undoing the ribbon that kept Fawkes from his release. With just a touch he came with a hoarse cry, arching his back again and seeming to pull at both spots where Vedan bit him, sending waves of fresh pain that paired with Fawkes’ extacy so well. His vision blurred as dizziness washed over Fawkes’ consciousness, as well as satisfaction. 

Vaguely he could feel sensations- something warm and wet running along his leg, someone undoing his hands and rubbing his more human wrist to encourage blood flow. His consciousness skipped, and the next sensation Fawkes was aware of was someone prodding his cheek.

“Oi. Lazybones. Get up,” Rayne’s voice pierced through the fog that clung to Fawke’s mind. He opened his eyes and realized he was laying on a chaise lounge, fully dressed with his hat tipped over his eyes and a heavy bag of gold on his chest. 

“You’re back already?” Fawkes mumbled, sitting up slowly. His head spun- fucking vampire took too much blood. He groaned. 

“We got done about three hours ago and have been looking for you,” Mirael pointed out dryly.

“C’mon loverboy, up and at ‘em,” Rayne helped Fawkes get up. Fawkes tucked the bag of gold into his jacket and let Rayne help him gather his things, pretending not to notice Mirael’s sudden interest in the bandage on his neck. As Fawkes moved, a slip of paper slid out of his sleeve and into his hand. In neat script, it read ‘Stop by again sometime, your services were satisfactory’ with a small bat drawn in the lower corner. 

“...Right, let’s go,” Fawkes grunted, lurching for the door. “I need a drink,” 


End file.
